


Trouble (The Boy Who Cried I Am Wolf)

by WhiteIronWolf (adoctoraday)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Complicated Relationships, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Morning After, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/WhiteIronWolf
Summary: He really shouldn’t be here, he’s not sure why Tony even let him in—he’s trouble and they both know how this is going to end.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 164





	Trouble (The Boy Who Cried I Am Wolf)

He’s wet, soaked to the bone, and shivering in the air conditioning of the opulent hotel hallway, waiting for the door to open. It was stupid to come, stupid to hope that after everything that’s happened the man behind the door would see him without calling the authorities or shooting him on site. 

It was stupid. 

But he has hope yet. 

Foolish, _desperate_ hope. 

The door opens and he’s greeted by a pair of dark doe eyes that widen almost imperceptibly at the sight of him. 

“I didn’t do it.”

The man stares at him for a moment longer and then nods and steps aside to make room for him to pass by—the rich scent of his cologne lingering on his inhale. 

The door shuts behind him and something itches between his shoulders, something that screams of danger and death and a need to _run._

“Drink?” the man offers as he passes by, steps rolling in an easy rhythm that’s just barely cautious and controlled—good, he thinks, the man _should_ be cautious. 

Even if he didn’t commit _this_ particular murder, his hands aren’t clean by any stretch of the imagination. 

“No, thank you.”

The man nods and pours himself something amber and scented like oak and for a moment he remembers another time, another place— _C’mon Stevie! It’s my birthday! Just one more!_

Jaw clenching, he glances away and when he looks back up finds those too discerning eyes on him, cautious and curious. 

“If you’re here to kill me, make it quick, huh?”

The dry humor makes his lips twitch and he shakes his head, gaze falling away to look out at the rainy skyline outside the windows. 

“I don’t do that anymore,” he tells the man softly, voice catching as he remembers all the times he _did_ do that. 

_Howard!_

_Please! My wife!_

Maybe he should have taken the drink.

“No? The video surveillance says you did.”

He looks back to the man and smirks bitterly, “Does it? Don’t you think if it _was_ me I would have been a ghost? I’m pretty good at that,” he admits softly, the bitter taste of memory in the back of his throat.

The man considers it and then nods, sipping his drink, gaze never leaving his face. “True. So what _did_ happen?” 

He gives his answer some thought and then shakes his head, “Wish I knew. I wasn’t even in the same country when it happened.”

“You’re here now though.”

He nods, “Figured you’d be able to help prove it wasn’t me,” he tells the man, pushing his ball cap off to run his fingers through his too long hair. 

“Not Steve?”

He smirks, lifting a brow at the man, “He tends to punch his way out of problems and this doesn’t seem like the kind of situation for his particular brand of negotiation. Figured I needed someone with resources, someone powerful, someone people would listen to.”

The man scoffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head, swallowing down the last of his whiskey. “You’re not wrong about him, I’ll give you that,” he says with a bitter laugh. 

The man studies him for a long moment and then sets aside the cut crystal glass, the lights from the city outside reflecting off its surface, glowing and alive. 

“Why should I help you?”

“Because I can tell you what really happened to your parents the night they died.”

The man inhales sharply, paling, and his hand trembles as he reaches for the decanter to pour himself another drink, the crystal shivering against the glass in his unsteady hand. 

Dark eyes cut back to him as the man swallows a large gulp of whiskey, throat working long after it’s gone from his mouth. His gaze lingers appreciatively on the column of his throat, on the full mouth that’s famous for biting words to the media and more scandals than any one person should be capable of. 

“Tell me.”

So he does. 

He tells him of the mission, of the crash, of the way Maria’s throat crumpled under his hand and Howard’s skull dented beneath his fist. He tells him everything and when he’s done he sits in silence, waiting for a bullet to the skull. 

“After…after Obadiah, I did some digging of my own. I discovered the truth about my parents a long time ago Barnes, and I don’t hold you responsible for it.”

James look up at him, disbelief coursing through him. “Then why did you let me in?”

Tony smiles faintly, lines around his eyes creasing attractively. “Because it’s time to stop running James. It’s time to come in from the cold.”

James shakes his head, confused and wary; “You shouldn’t trust me. I’ll—I’m trouble.”

Tony laughs softly at that and steps closer, close enough that James has to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. 

“I can handle trouble.”

His mouth tastes like whiskey when it finds James’s, warm and lingering on his tongue.

Work roughened hands slide beneath his shirt, hot and firm, pulling him closer and then closer still—inch after inch of skin revealed, touched, kissed. 

He breathes too fast and hard, pulse skipping as Tony’s mouth finds his throat. 

The bed beneath him is too soft, too luxurious after months on the run, but Tony just presses him down harder and kisses with a fervor that leaves him breathless.

“I forgive you,” Tony whispers between kisses, gaze steady on James’s for a moment before he peppers more wet, lingering kisses down his torso, the words whispered against his too hot skin. 

He weeps silently as Tony kisses him, forgiveness on his lips, and it tastes like whiskey and tears. They pour freely down his face as Tony’s lips press to the seam of his arm and he clings desperately to the absolution being washed over him.

He sobs Tony’s name as he’s worked open, the act of it shattering the cage around his soul, freeing it with a wordless cry of pleasure.

He begs, for what he doesn’t know, but Tony gives it to him, murmuring his name softly between kisses, each steady thrust an affirmation of his freedom, each kiss a blessing on his withered soul.

His release is a wash of reds and gold behind his lids, hands clinging too tightly to what isn’t his to have, to what he’s longed for; to hope and love and freedom.

It’s quiet after.

The sheets are twisted around them, and he watches Tony sleep for hours, memorizing his face.

He doesn’t ever want to forget it. 

* * *

Tony wakes the next morning alone, sheets cold beside him, only the faintest scent of James left on the pillow. 

_Why would you let me in?_

Tony sits up and rubs a hand over his face and wonders why he did it if he knew how it would end.

_I’m trouble._

Sighing tiredly, he rises from the bed and winces at the familiar ache in his muscles—bittersweet now that his lover is gone. 

He dresses and prepares for the upcoming signing of the Accords, mind stuck on the beauty of James’s face as he had surrendered to pleasure. 

When he sees him again, it’s across fifty feet of tarmac, gun strapped to his thigh and regret in his eyes. 

_You knew how it would end_ they say. 

* * *

There’s another hotel, India this time, and then he’s gone again. 

Hong Kong

Dubai

New York 

Each time James whispers the same words— _why would you let me in?_

_Because I want you to stay_ he whispers back. 

Eventually, maybe James will. 

**Author's Note:**

> Emoji key for when you just don’t know what to say in a comment!! 
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


End file.
